


Date Night

by EminEmily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Couch Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotions, Epiphanies, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Lovey-Dovey, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1356487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EminEmily/pseuds/EminEmily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas have a movie night. It gets slightly ruined (or improved, depending on how you look at it) by sex and epiphanies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Night

Cas had been living in the bunker for several months, and he and Dean had been…whatever they are, for just as long (Dean refused to call it boyfriends, no matter how much Sam insisted that was the right word). Dean had been the happiest he’d been in a long, long time, mostly due to Cas. He hadn’t waited as long as everyone thought he would to drop the ball on Cas. It only took a couple days of Cas living in the bunker, being inside Dean’s space, for Dean to sit him down and tell him, finally tell him, exactly how he felt. Much to Dean’s surprise - but no one else’s - Cas felt exactly the same way, and they’d been living in domestic bliss ever since.

Since then, Dean had made it his God-given mission to show Cas whatever pop culture-type things he never understood. Dean showed Cas movies and TV shows in the hopes that he would finally understand his references and maybe, just maybe, start making some of his own. Tonight’s feature was The Avengers and Dean was decidedly excited. He loved superhero movies, and wanted to make sure Cas did, too. It would be a fucking travesty if he didn’t. Superhero movies were awesome, in Dean’s personal opinion. They were usually full of hot girls (and guys, he wasn’t fussy), kickass action scenes, cool powers, and, just like in real life; superheroes never really had a happy ending. There were always more villains to fight, more apocalypses to avert. They never really stopped protecting the Earth, and Dean thought it was nice to relate. 

Seven ‘o clock rolled around and Dean was standing in front of the leather couch in the den, surveying his awesomely-made blanket nest. He’d taken the duvets from his and Cas’ room and piled them on the couch, interspersing them with warm fleece and wool blankets. He’d done it mostly for Cas’ benefit, though he did know it’d be pretty warm and comfy to sit in. It was no secret that Cas loved to nest, every resident of the bunker knew he did. On cold days you almost needed an excavation team to find his disheveled head peeking out from his shit-ton of blankets. Dean would never admit it to anyone, especially not Sam, but he almost found Cas’ burrowing adorable. Except he didn’t, because if he did that meant he would’ve picked up an ovary from somewhere, and he hadn’t, so he totally did not find Cas’ burrowing adorable. Nope, he didn’t in the slightest. If seeing Cas surrounded by a mess of blankets made him smile a little stupidly as his eyes went slightly doe-eyed, well, that was just a coincidence. Dean Winchester did not find things adorable….unless it was Cas, and then he totally did. 

Cas came out of his room around 7:10, mouth open in a huge yawn and scratching at his stomach. Dean was leaning against the doorframe, frowning at Cas and greeting him with a glare and crossed arms. “You’re late,” he said gruffly. Not even the sight of the strip of skin Cas revealed while scratching at his stomach was enough to sway him.

Cas just chuckled in response and patted Dean on the arm as he passed him, “Just by ten minutes, I doubt I’ve missed anything important.”

Dean pouted, “You’re still late. You were sleeping again, weren’t you? Cas, man, you gotta stop doing that so much. It’s not normal to sleep as long as you do.” Cas had, upon falling, a considerable amount of difficulty with sleeping. For the longest time, he dreamed of nothing but nightmares, nothing but brimstone and fire and pain. He dreamed of Leviathans and false Gods and death, and woke up whimpering more often than not. After he and Dean became whatever they were, Cas started sleeping in Dean’s bed, clinging to Dean in his sleep. It had helped, and Cas conquered his fear of sleeping, subsequently falling in love with it. He slept whenever he could, even if it was at an inconvenience. He tended to sleep the goddamn day away.

Cas shrugged, a human gesture he’d picked up and clung to. “I have a millennium of not sleeping to catch up on. Besides, I quite like it.” 

Dean grimaced, he had a fair point and he couldn’t begrudge him that. “Maybe you do, but you’re still late.” 

Cas threw a crooked grin over his shoulder, “You can punish me for it later. Now, this was a movie night, was it not? I suggest we start actually watching the movie…unless you have other ideas.” He looked at Dean from under hooded eyelids and Dean felt heat stirring restlessly inside him. He shook his head, this was not the time. 

“No, no, it’s definitely movie night. Go ahead.” He ushered Cas on with a wave of his hand. 

Cas nodded and situated himself into the blankets with a noise of pure happiness. “Dean, this is so warm,” he crooned.

Dean threw him a soft smile. “Of course it is, I made it.” He moved over to the couch and made his way inside the nest as well, burrowing into Cas’ side. He moved his hand from the blankets long enough to fumble around for the remote, pushing buttons until the Marvel logo appeared on screen. He put the remote back on the table and wedged his hand between Cas and himself, twining his fingers around Cas’ and absentmindedly rubbing the back of Cas’ hand with his thumb, a habit he’d picked up that made the tips of his ears burn no matter how much he did it. Cas glanced at him and blushed, clutching his hand infinitesimally tighter. Together, they settled in to watch the movie.

Sometime through the beginning, around the time Agent Coulson was calling Natasha Romanoff to help with The Avengers, Cas pulled his and Dean’s conjoined hands out of the blanket and brought them to his mouth. Before, during, and after falling, Cas had carried his old battlefield instincts with him. Unless he was sleeping, he always had to be on the move in some form or another, and sitting still for too long tended to make him restless and twitchy. He attached his mouth to the knob of Dean’s wrist and began to bite it lightly.

Dean gave him a bemused, sidelong glance. “Cas, what the hell are you doing?”

Cas made no move to reply, and instead bit down slightly harder on Dean’s wrist, causing him to yelp slightly and blush despite himself. There was something about the picture Cas was making that was getting to Dean. Cas sucked his wrist into his mouth, making soft, sucking-like noises as he chewed. Dean tried to ignore what was going on in front of him and succeeded only by sheer willpower. He leaned forward and bumped his head into Cas’ shoulder, head butting him as he tried to wrench his wrist away. He was rewarded with a bite from Cas, harder than the last.

“Goddamn it, Cas, would you stop gnawing on my wrist and pay attention to the movie? Jesus Christ, you must be hungry or something,” Dean complained.

Cas lowered his mouth from Dean’s wrist and returned their hands beneath the blankets. “I was paying attention; your wrist just presented a more interesting option. And, coincidentally, I am quite hungry.” 

Dean smirked at him, snaking his arm behind him and over the arm of the couch to retrieve a bag of gummy worms. He lifted them triumphantly and shook them. “I have just the solution to that. Cas, I present to you gummy worms, otherwise known as sugary snacks from heaven itself.”

Cas glanced at the bag, “I don’t see how sugary snacks could’ve come from heaven, but I’ll try them nonetheless.” 

Dean disentangled his hand from Cas’ and pried open the bag. Pulling out a blue and green one, he dangled it in front of Cas’ face. Cas made a move to grab it from Dean, and Dean shook his head, edging closer to Cas until he was squished against the couch cushions, Dean looming over him with a gentle smile on his face. “Open your mouth,” Dean commanded.

Cas shook his head, “I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself, Dean, I am not an infant.” 

Dean dropped the bag and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand “C’mon, Cas, it’s supposed to be-“he blushed, the tips of his ears and the middle of his cheeks turning crimson “-romantic or whatever.”

Cas nodded as if Dean had just presented him with a national secret and opened his mouth slowly. Dean dangled the gummy worm over his mouth for a moment before dropping it in. Cas closed his mouth and chewed, weighing the flavor on his tongue thoughtfully. Dean watched as he swallowed, a happy smile washing over his face. “These, these I like,” Cas said slowly, grinning up at Dean.

Dean suppressed the urge to fist-pump as he sat back. “Good, I knew you would. I told you, sugary snacks from heaven itself.” He retrieved the bag from where it had fallen and pressed it into the less-than-ten-inch space in the cushions between Cas and himself, sticking it between two cushions. He got the remote from the table and rewound the movie; he’d missed some of it in the food debacle with Cas. Turning his attention back to the screen, he grabbed another gummy worm from the bag and offered it to Cas. 

Cas ate it, and in turn offered one to Dean, dangling it in front of his mouth. Dean stuck his tongue out, angling to pull the treat back into his mouth, but Cas pulled it away instead. “No, you don’t get to eat this, “he teased, bringing it back towards his mouth. Dean pouted, opening his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Cas himself. “And I’m not going to eat it either.” He brought the worm up to his lip, “I’m going to wear it as a worm-stache.” There was something about Cas’ serious face and deadpan voice, holding a gummy worm above his mouth as a mustache that Dean couldn’t handle. He burst into laughter, laughing so hard that tears sprung to the corners of his eyes and he had to hold his sides. Cas was confused at first, but soon caught on and laughed alongside Dean, chuckling until it turned into a laugh, something coming from deep within him, something real. Dean tried to calm his laughter, but upon looking at Cas and seeing him with the worm held to his lips still, he lost it again. Eventually his laughter died down, and he stared at Cas with a new sort of softness in his eyes, watching as Cas quelled his own chuckles. 

Watching the former angel slowly turn human meant learning new things about him, and with every new thing he learned, Dean fell a little further in love with the angel. He had learned every inch of him, mapped it out with his hands and marked his favorite places, and after that he finally let himself accept that he loved Cas with all his soul. He was a little weird, and, as supported by evidence, made terrible jokes, but Dean found that Cas somehow managed to make him laugh more than anyone else, deep, belly laughs that stayed around in the form of quiet chuckles for days after. He found himself laughing at things Cas did just by remembering them, or just by looking at Cas. He had once told him never to change, but that was an impossible thing to wish for. Dean had loved him more once he did change, though, because he had become more human and that had changed him for the better. He connected with Dean now in ways he simply didn’t before. 

Dean snapped out of his reverie, noticing that Cas was dangling another worm in front of him. Cas let him eat it this time, and Dean savored the sugary flavor on his tongue before offering Cas one. They continued the back-and-forth for most of the rest of movie, feeding each other worms back and forth as The Avengers met each other and fought to save the world. Dean was almost disappointed when he reached into the bag and found it empty. He shrugged it off, throwing the container off the couch and snuggling into Cas’ side instead. It was another thing he’d never tell anyone, but he loved snuggling with Cas. The angel was warm and always smelled like fresh air, sunlight, and, for some reason, peppermint. Dean threw an arm around Cas’ back, slinging the other across his waist and holding him in a sideways hug. Cas moved his arm so that it lay across Dean’s shoulders and hugged Dean to him as Dean breathed in his scent. They lay like that for the rest of the movie, trading kisses back and forth as Dean brushed his lips across Cas’ neck, below his ear, and down to his collarbone. Cas brushed his fingers across the back of Dean’s neck and through the short hairs that rested beneath his skull, occasionally brushing his own lips over the crown of Dean’s head. Dean laughed at his favorite parts, like The Hulk throwing Loki around like a ragdoll and calling him a “puny god.” He was surprised to find that Cas even laughed at a few moments, like when Tony Stark had compared Thor’s cape to his grandmother’s drapes.

Dean stretched and pulled back from Cas as the credits rolled onscreen. “So?” he asked, “What’d you think?” 

Cas considered the question and then nodded. “I liked it much more than I thought it would when it started. It was very good.” 

Dean gave him a huge grin, “Good, I’m really glad you liked it. Okay, tell me, which is your favorite character?” 

Cas hummed quietly, “Thor, I think. He…reminds me of me in some ways.” 

Dean nodded, “I can see that. He’s very powerful, seems to come from another planet and is almost a different species from humanity, but still very similar. He’s strong and doesn’t exactly understand most human cultures and society, and his brother’s a dick. I totally see that.” 

Cas pinched him, “I don’t like the implication that my brothers are dicks.” 

Dean looked at him with quiet eyes until he acquiesced. “Okay, maybe they are,” he allowed. Dean laughed. “I’m guessing your favorite is Captain America?” Cas asked.

Dean shook his head. “I do like him, and I can see why you’d think that, but no, mine is Iron Man. He’s snarky and sarcastic and rich, and I’ve always wanted to make amazing things with my hands like he does. Maybe not war machines, but still.”

Cas nodded, “I can see that.” 

Dean sat forward on his haunches, “Okay, now, which one do you think is hottest, the most attractive?” 

“Though I do love Thor, I think I’ll have to go for Bruce Banner on that one,” Cas said, tapping his fingers against Dean’s forearm, which he had put in front of him to help support his weight.

Dean groaned, “C’mon, Bruce Banner? Mine’s still Iron Man, Robert Downey Jr. is a god Or maybe Tasha, because, I mean, she’s Scarlet Johansson.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean, pinching his forearm and drawing a yelp. “I am allowed my opinions, Dean. I quite like his intelligence, his glasses, and I like the graying around his temples. It’s quite becoming.”

Dean shook his head, a smirk dancing across his features. “The glasses, I should’ve guessed. Damn, man, Bruce fucking Banner, of all people.” Cas pinched him again. “Damn it, Cas, stop pinching me. I’m sorry, okay? I can sorta see why you’d find him attractive.” 

Cas nodded, “Thank you, Dean.” And then he pinched him again. 

Dean drew his arm back, yelping again. “Stop! One more time and you’ll be punished extra hard for being late and for pinching me.”

Cas smirked at Dean, his eyes darkening. “Punish me, then.” He leaned forward and pinched Dean yet again.

Dean tackled him in response, throwing off the covers surrounding him and pinning Cas’ arms to the couch. “Okay, that’s it. You’re getting punished. Or, maybe not, you seem to like it too much,” he smirked. He leaned forward and nipped at Cas’ neck, just below his jaw. 

Cas whimpered, “Dean, please.” 

Something in his voice stopped Dean in his tracks. He pulled back and looked at the want, the heat in Cas’ eyes and threw out all the thoughts of punishing him. He wanted slow, he wanted sensual. He wasn’t going to punish Cas, there was a time for that later. Now, all he wanted was Cas. He wanted to breath him in and rediscover every inch of him as if he hadn’t already memorized it. Dean nodded quickly and released Cas’ arms, going back to nipping at his jaw. He moved his way up Cas’ jaw to his face, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss with all the love and warmth he could could possibly put behind it. Cas made a noise of pure bliss in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss, curling his hand into Dean’s hair as Dean repositioned them so that Cas was pressed into the cushions, blankets askew and his head laying on the arm of the couch. Dean surged against him, exploring his mouth with his tongue and running his hands over Cas’ side to tug at his shirt. 

Dean tried to pull away from Cas’ mouth, his hands grasping the bottom of Cas’ t-shirt and fumbling with it, but Cas just moved forward and captured his lips again every time he tried. “Cas, Cas, stop for a second. Need to get your shirt off, please,” Dean pleaded. He needed to feel Cas against him with nothing between them, and he needed it now. 

Dean tried to pull back again, and this time Cas didn’t follow, but he did whimper, and that was fucking unacceptable. Dean got his shirt off as quickly as he could, scrambling with his own, before he leaned down and pressed himself back up against Cas. With nothing separating them now, Dean could feel every inch of Cas’ torso against him, and moaned at the feeling. Cas returned the sound and brushed his hands down Dean’s back, nudging his jeans down his hips and playing with the belt loops. He arched forward and rubbed himself against Dean, and Dean could feel his heat, it made his throat go dry. Dean kissed Cas again, pushing at his lips with his tongue until Cas let him in. He rubbed his hands over Cas’ torso, feeling every dip and crevice in his stomach muscles and hips. Cas always wore his jeans low, and Dean was never more thankful for it than he was right now. He moved his mouth away from Cas’ and kissed his way down his neck and across his chest, paying extra attention to Cas’ collarbones. Below him, Cas bit his lip and rubbed himself against Dean’s thigh again, seeking some sort of friction, anything he could get. Dean made his way even lower with his mouth, only stopping when he reached the edge of Cas’ jeans. He decided that those had to go, so he gripped them with two hands, the hem of Cas’ boxers included, and inched them down his thighs, pulling and yanking swiftly until he got them off Cas’ legs. 

Dean sat on Cas’ shins for a couple seconds, enjoying the view of the naked former angel spread below him, all his for the taking. He relished every second of it, wanted to make Cas feel as good as possible so that he’d never leave him again. Dean knew that now, if Cas ever left, Dean wouldn’t be able to handle it, and so he’d make this as good as possible, he’d make everything as good as possible, that way Cas would never leave, and he’d be Dean’s. Mine, Dean thought in his head, hungry eyes sweeping Cas’ form. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, he thought possessively. He needed to hear it, needed to hear that Cas was his, his. 

Dean ran his hands down Cas’ chest, nails scratching softly. “Cas,” he murmured, “Cas, tell me who you belong to.” 

Cas’ head snapped up, confusion crossing his face. “Who I belong to?” 

Dean nodded, gripping Cas’ hips, “Whose are you, Cas? Are you mine?”

Understanding dawned on Cas’ face, and he licked his lips. “Yes, Dean, I’m yours.” 

Dean’s grip tightened, “Have you always been mine?”

Cas nodded, “Yes, from the moment I held your soul, I was gone, I was yours, I am yours. I will always be yours.”

Dean loosened his grip and cupped Cas’ cheek instead, laying his remaining hand on Cas’ heart. “I want you to always be mine. I want you, Cas, want you so bad it hurts sometimes.”

Cas flushed, a bright pink that started at his chest and worked its way up. “Then take, Dean. Take what you want. I’m right here and I’ll give it all to you, I’d give anything to you. Just. Take.”

Dean snarled, leaning forward and licking a stripe down Cas’ chest. “Those are dangerous words, Cas. I take from people, I bleed them dry. They always die, Cas, you died, and it’s always my fault. Don’t say that; don’t say that you’d give me everything. I don’t want you to. I want you to live. Don’t let me take, don’t let me bleed you dry. Don’t let me be the reason you die.” Dean felt tears spring in the corners of his eyes and, fuck, this was not how he imagined this going.

Cas sat up suddenly, upending Dean for a few seconds before he righted himself. “Dean, none of those deaths were your fault,” he said fiercely. “Those were circumstance, those were people knowing the risks and taking the chance anyway. Those were people trying to fight for the better of the world. That was not your fault. None of that is on you. I chose my fate, and not all of it was because of you. I’d die for you, Dean, I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. It’s my choice to do so, don’t try and take that away from me. Let me make my choice, and if I choose you - which I already have - don’t ignore my choice, and don’t blame yourself. Let me choose my own path. If it leads to death, so be it. I know the risks, but the reward is so much greater.” He leaned forward and pecked Dean’s lips once, twice, three times before moving on to kiss his nose, his eyelids, and each cheek. 

He held Dean’s face in both hands and lavished him with soft kisses. He left one at the base of his nose, his temples, and the edges of his jaw. Between each, he pressed atonements into Dean’s skin. “I’m sorry they left, I’m sorry they all died, I’m sorry I died, and I’m sorry I made mistakes.” He left vindication in his wake. “It’s not your fault, none of that is your fault. You are not perfect, but you are not the man you see yourself as. You are holy, you are righteous, you are everything your father was not and you’re the better man because of it. Sam looks up to you, I look up to you. You are a hero.” He said each word fiercely, vehemently, daring Dean to contradict him. When he finished, he leaned back and took in Dean’s face, expecting to see denial in his eyes. He saw tears instead, leaking from the corners of Dean’s eyes and sliding down his face. Dean was nodding, quickly and slowly all at once, and he leaned into Cas’ touch as Cas cupped his face and wiped away his tears, shushing quietly.

“Dean, Dean, shhh, Dean, it’s okay.” Cas said his name like a prayer, like a psalm. He revered Dean, looked at him with holy eyes and saw holiness reflected back to him. The Righteous Man may have averted the apocalypse, may have twisted his role around until it no longer seemed righteous, but he never lost his righteousness. He was everything Cas wanted, he would praise his name from the highest of mountain tops, he would scream his name in the deepest pits of Hell. Dean was everything he ever wanted to be, he just never saw it in himself.

Dean laughed suddenly, startling Cas out of his thoughts and causing him to draw his hands back. He was wiping angrily at his eyes. “This was not how I imagined tonight going. Look at me, fucking pathetic.” 

Cas shook his head, shushing him quietly again. He pulled Dean into his chest, and Dean followed, letting himself be held. “We both knew it was coming. Don’t worry. It’s okay. It’s all okay.” Cas said it with such fervor that Dean couldn’t help but believe him. 

He nodded against his chest. “Okay, alright. It’s all okay, I believe you.” He said the words, shocked that they were coming from his own mouth and even more shocked that, for once, he believed it. “It’s okay…” he repeated the words again, tasting them, learning the feel of them on his tongue. They had never been used before; they were never part of his vocabulary unless he was using them as a placation. When Dean Winchester said something was okay, it wasn’t fucking okay, but it had to be for the time being, and so it was. But now, when he said it was okay, it was actually okay. They were part of his vocabulary now, and Cas had put them there.

Dean pulled out of Cas’ embrace and caught him in a fierce kiss, returning him to his laying position on the couch. “Let me do this, Cas, let me make this feel good, make you feel good. You’ve done so much for me, let me return the favour.” Cas nodded, looking slightly star struck. He let Dean shower him with kisses, layering them over his face and his torso. It had been ignored before, but now his nakedness was readily apparent, and he found himself returned to full hardness under Dean’s ministrations. Dean layered more kisses over his stomach, his hips, and finally to the tip of Cas’ flushed cock. 

Cas gasped, jerking upward and painting a stripe of precum over Dean’s cheek. He blushed, whispering “sorry” as Dean reached a thumb up to wipe the fluid away. Cas expected him to wipe it somewhere, on the couch, on a blanket, on his own jeans, but he surprised him yet again by sucking his thumb into his mouth, licking the precum away with a satisfied sound. Cas’ breath was stuck in his throat, he was rendered speechless. Dean smirked down at him and ran a palm over his length, relishing the delicious sounds Cas made in reply. He lifted his hand to his mouth, licked a stripe up his palm, and returned it to Cas’ cock, pumping him once and twisting slightly just under the head. Cas jackknifed off the couch, gasping loudly and panting. 

“Dean, Dean,” he chanted, writhing under him. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Dean silenced him with a kiss, slowly pushing him back down to the couch. “Just let me.”

Cas nodded, still unable to reply. He watched as Dean took his hand away and slid further down his legs, his jeans bunching up at the ankles. Cas tugged at Dean’s jeans in question, pulling them further down until the globes of his ass showed. Dean hadn’t noticed he was still partially clothed until now. “I should probably take these off, huh?” He undid the button and zipper quickly, getting off Cas just long enough to yank the denim away and throw them down. He returned to Cas as fast as he could, pressing himself against him. Cas sighed happily at his return and squirmed slightly until his cock brushed against Dean’s hand, a silent plea to continue. Dean smiled and complied, but not with his hand. He moved further down Cas’ legs, no denim bunching this time, and instead placed a kiss at the base of Cas’ cock. Cas whimpered and jerked slightly. Dean laughed again, “Impatient, are we?” Cas just pouted, and he looked so fucking pathetic that there was no way Dean could resist. 

He took Cas into his mouth with practiced ease. In one fell swoop he had Cas’ length sheathed inside his mouth, the tip rubbing against the back of his throat. He breathed through his nose and sucked his cheeks in as he bobbed his head, holding the base of Cas’ cock in one hand to help steady him. He used the other to reach under Cas, tugging at his balls and brushing his thumb against his perineum. He took his balls in hand and rolled them softly, tugging and massaging gently until he had Cas falling apart above him. The moment before Cas’ orgasm was always his favourite. It took Cas by surprise every time. No matter how many times they had sex, Cas was always surprised that it felt as good as it did. His orgasms always crept up on him, and the look on his face when he realised it was coming was Dean’s favourite thing in the world. He’d almost rate it above pie, and that was saying something. 

Cas made a soft whimpering noise, tentatively holding the back of Dean’s head, trying to keep from fucking into his mouth for fear of giving him more than he could take. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled off with an obscene-sounding pop, leveling Cas with a look. “Go ahead, I can take it. I’ve had practice.” He winked lewdly and turned his attention back to the achingly hard cock in front of him. In the next moment, he found himself with Cas’ length back inside his mouth, his nose pushing at the soft curls surrounding the base. Cas made a soft noise in the back of his throat and began thrusting shallowly, almost beside himself with the sensation of the wet heat of Dean’s mouth. He was gone less than a minute later, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. 

“Dean, Dean, I’m gonna-“he warned, but Dean did not pull away. He let go of Cas’ balls and ran his hand lower, fingers pressing at Cas’ entrance, and Cas couldn’t hold it anymore. He felt himself spill into Dean’s mouth, and Dean took it all, swallowing the ropes of come without a second thought. Some of it leaked from the corners of his mouth, and when he pulled away, Cas lovingly reached out a thumb to brush it away. Dean grabbed his retreating hand and pulled his thumb into his mouth instead, sucking at Cas’ thumb until it was clear of come. He released it slowly, a thin trail of saliva following. Cas gaped at him, surprised and overwhelmed all at once. “You are beautiful,” he whispered, laying a hand across Dean’s cheek. 

Dean shook his head, but kissed Cas anyway. “Don’t say shit like that. It’s….it’s too much.” 

Cas chuckled, “And the things we were discussing not 10 minutes ago weren’t?” 

Dean shrugged, he had a point. He shifted uncomfortably. Bringing Cas to orgasm might be one of his favourite things, but he still had his own hardness to attend to, and it was calling his name, so hard it ached and pulsed with want. Despite himself, Dean thrusted against Cas’ thigh, opening his mouth at the sensation. Cas was brought back to himself at the feeling, as if he’d forgotten about it (he hadn’t.)

Cas leaned forward until Dean leaned back, pushing him against the couch instead. “Let me return the favour,” he said softly, covering Dean’s own body with kisses. He kissed his own path down Dean’s torso, stopping at Dean’s cock. Dean thought he’d take him into his mouth, but he didn’t. Instead, he continued his way down until he was eye-level with Dean’s ass. He pushed his cheeks apart with his fingers and his tongue found its home against Dean’s rim. “Cas-“ Dean choked out, gripping the discarded covers so hard his knuckles turned white. Cas chuckled against him and continued lavishing his entrance with his tongue. He removed one hand from Dean’s ass and moved it to grip his cock. Dean was leaking enough precome that Cas didn’t even need to wet his palm. He collected some of it with a swipe of his thumb across the head, and spread it down Dean’s length. He jacked him slowly, almost lazily, concentrating on his ass instead. He lapped at his entrance, ever-so-slightly dipping his tongue into the ring of muscle. Dean was losing himself, not expecting any of the attention he was receiving. He alternated between gripping the blanket and running his hands up and down Cas’ back. He wasn’t going to last long like this, and he knew it. He let Cas continue ravishing him, and the next time Cas’ tongue pushed past his entrance, he lost himself. He orgasmed almost quietly in contrast to the wave of heat and tingling numbness racing through him. He almost blacked out from the pleasure, but luckily kept his hold on consciousness. He felt his own come paint his stomach, and he groaned as he felt Cas lap up some of it with his tongue. When Cas finished and sat back, Dean grabbed his shirt from the floor and mopped up the rest. He threw it back down and lay there instead, panting quietly.

“Holy shit, Cas. That-that was amazing.” Cas stretched, yawning quietly and laying himself over Dean, not caring that he was still naked. He pulled blankets with him, surrounding Dean and himself until they were inside a blanket nest once again. He closed his arms over Dean’s sides, holding him in a sort of cuddling hug. He curled against his chest, laying his head over his heart and listening to the steady beat of it. 

“Do we have to move?” Cas complained, nuzzling into Dean’s chest. Dean knew he’d be numb in some parts of his body in the morning, and he back would probably ache, but he couldn’t move for the world at this particular moment, and so he shook his head, gripping Cas tighter to him. “No, Cas, no we don’t. If you’re okay with sleeping here, then I’m okay.” 

Cas nodded sleepily. “Yes, I’m fine with it. Thank you, Dean, this was the best movie night yet.” 

“You’re welcome,” Dean practically whispered back. He lay for a while, just listening to Cas’ even breathing, until he felt Cas shift against him. Cas pushed himself further up Dean’s body, until his nose was tucked under his chin. Dean could feel Cas’ breath ghosting across his neck as he whispered things that made Dean blush. He whispered his love into his neck, painted pictures of how much he loved Dean. Dean knew, of course he knew, they’d just never actually said it, the three words. They’d said it in all the ways they could, except in the way that really mattered.

“Cas,” Dean said, tracing patterns against his bare back. “Cas, I love you.” 

He felt Cas’ breathing hitch. There was no movement for a few seconds, and then Cas exhaled slowly across his neck. “Dean, I love you, too. With all of my heart and all of my soul – if I even have one now. I loved you since the moment I first saw your soul, and I will love you until I see it again, when you ascend to Heaven and I follow behind you.”

Dean could feel himself choking up at the words, at the implications behind them, but he didn’t let himself cry, not again. He’d done it enough that night. Instead, he pulled Cas’ face to his for one last, sleepy kiss before he let Cas nuzzle against him again. He waited until Cas’ breathing evened back out and slowed before he whispered “And I’d gladly lead you.”

The last thought Dean had before he fell asleep was nothing but the feeling of Cas pressed against him, and he knew at that moment that he would never want to fall asleep to any other feeling ever again. Nothing would beat this. Nothing could even compare.

 

The next morning, Dean woke up thinking that maybe something could compare to falling asleep next to Cas – waking up next to him. Sunlight poured through the window in the den and bathed everything in dull yellow tones. Dean woke up, slowly aware of the weight on his chest. His hunter’s instincts kicked in for a second and he almost fought against it, lifting his eyes and readying his arms to swing…until he opened his eyes wider. The moment they landed on a shock of black hair, Dean relaxed again, a calmness he hadn’t felt in years washing over him. He went boneless against the cushions and basked in the moment. Cas was alive. Cas was alive and curled up on his chest like a cat, head pillowed against his hands, still laying on Dean’s chest. He was alive, he was here, and he was beautiful. It still hit Dean like a punch to the chest sometimes, his heart squeezed as if someone had grasped it in a fist and clutched tighter. Dean had, admittedly, seen a lot of good-looking people in his lifetime and enough good-looking naked people to last a lifetime, but none of them had ever been like Cas. Dean didn’t know if it was the endorphins from being in love or what, but Cas took his breath away. He wasn’t just good-looking, he wasn’t just gorgeous, he was breath-taking. Through the sunlight, Dean could see every dust mote in the air, he could see every pore in Cas’ face, every unnatural dip that was caused by Jimmy’s acne scars or random, tiny scars, like the one Cas gave himself when he tried to shave for the first time. Dean thought he was going to inadvertently slit his own throat, but Cas pulled out of it with nary a nick, save for one right under his lip. He’d glared at Dean that day, proclaimed that if he could handle an angel blade, he could handle a razor, but he’d scared the shit out of Dean nonetheless. 

Every bit of him was beautiful. His messy hair, his blue eyes, even his kneecaps were pretty to Dean (and wasn’t that just a weird thought to wake up with?). Every inch of him was stunning and right there and Dean could take as much as he wanted as long as he wanted. Dean’s mouth salivated at the idea of having Cas be his forever.

Dean let his head fall back against the arm of the couch with a dull thump. This was not the time for epiphanies, but apparently his brain didn’t care because it had just given him one. He wanted Cas forever, forever forever, and this was the moment he knew that he wasn’t just in love, he was in love. This was it for him. This was his peak. Cas was the best he was ever going to get and he didn’t want anything else. Cas was endgame, and the realisation sucked the breath out of him. He’d loved before, sure, Cassie and Lisa were important to him, but whenever he was with them, he’d never had this thought, he’d never thought they were endgame. They were important and loved, yes, but not it. No one had ever been it…except Cas. Cas had stumbled into his life and become everything he ever wanted without even trying that much. He was just Cas, and that was enough for Dean. He never actually needed to be anyone else. He had been other people, but hell, so had Dean, and they’d both stumbled through every persona forced upon them and found themselves back at just them. Just Dean, just Cas, and it was all they needed or wanted. Forever.

Dean could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes again, happy ones this time, and he groaned internally. This was way too much crying for him. He’d be okay if he never cried again in his life, but somehow Cas had this effect on him. He could tear him apart and put him back together and make him do things he never even knew he wanted to do, or could do. He pushed him to save the goddamn world, and that definitely not a thing he ever thought he could do. One doesn’t just wake up one day and put save the world on their to-do list. But here he was, a survivor of an apocalypse he personally helped avert, and wasn’t that just something else? So Dean doesn’t cry, but apparently he does with Cas. 

Dean raised his hand under the blankets that were covering them both and laid it across Cas’ back, gently rubbing circles into the taunt skin before taking Cas’ chin in his hand. He tilted Cas’ head up and placed a kiss into his disheveled hair before slotting his mouth against Cas’. He heard a startled intake of breath as Cas jerked awake, his eyes widening before he took in Dean’s face. His expression softened and he melted into the kiss, and Dean kissed him deeply, morning breath and all. Cas shifted against him, stretching and moving his lower body until he was pressed against Dean chest-to-chest, never once breaking the kiss. 

When he did, he smiled softly, fondness painting every bit of his face. “This is a nice way to wake up,” he commented, Dean chuckling softly in response. “I could get used to this.” His cock slotted into place in the crease of Dean’s thigh, ever-increasing in hardness due to morning wood. He inched his hands up Dean’s body until the right rested in his hair and the left against his shoulder. Dean tilted his head back and Cas took it as a sign to continue, kissing down his neck and twining his hand into Dean’s hair just that much tighter. Dean sighed happily and arched up, his own half-hard cock rubbing once against Cas’. Cas groaned into his neck and huffed out a breath. Dean hated to break the moment, but he desperately needed a shower. He gripped Cas’ hips and tugged on them, pulling Cas away from him. 

“Cas, as much as I would love to just sit here all day and do this, I really, really need a shower.” Cas pouted and sat up, yawning despite himself. Dean pushed up onto his elbows and kissed Cas once, quick and chaste. “I never said you couldn’t join me,” his smile turned into a smirk and Cas stopped mid-stretch, raising one eyebrow.

“If there ever comes a day that I deny you that, assume I am no longer myself.” Dean laughed again and took a moment to marvel at how happy he was, how happy Cas made him. He nodded and followed Cas as he got off the couch, fishing a hand around on the floor for his boxers. 

“Assume that for me, too, Cas,” he laughed, fingers finally finding his boxer briefs still twisted in his jeans from the night before. He tugged them on quickly and half-ran after Cas into the bathroom. He picked Cas up and put him on the bathroom counter as soon he got the door closed and locked behind them. He reached over and turned on the shower, lazily kissing Cas while the water warmed up. Cas swung his dangling legs back and forth like a kid and Dean laughed, laying his head against Cas’ chest to catch his breath. He looked up, and when blue eyes met his, Dean found himself unable to keep his mouth shut, despite himself. 

“Cas, you know I’m not very good with words, feelings, and whatever else, but I just—I want you to know that you make me happy, alright? More than anyone else ever has. And-and, Cas, man, you’re it for me, you know? You’re it. And I-I love you, okay, Cas? I love you.” He finished with a deep breath and laid his head back against Cas’ shoulder, every following moment of silence making him feel more and more stupid. 

When Cas finally did speak, his voice was rough with sleep and with emotion. It was then that Dean realised that he’d actually rendered Cas speechless, and that was awe-inspiring in itself. Cas grabbed Dean’s face with both of his hands and cupped it, forcing Dean to look him straight in the eyes. Dean was greeted with tear-rimmed eyes, and it punched him in the chest again to see it. “Dean, Dean you’ve always been it for me. I didn’t even-I didn’t even know what happiness was before I met you, and now it’s almost the only thing I feel all the time. I know loss and pain now, but I also know happiness, and it’s because of you. You’ve only ever been it for me, there never was anyone else, never could be anyone else. No one else did as much for me as you have, and I’ve made sacrifices of my own in return. You wanted me, you have me. I wanted you, and now that I have you I am never, ever going to let go. I love you, too.”

Dean bit his lip, willing himself to not even feel like crying, he sure as hell wasn’t going to do that yet again. He just nodded, sniffling ever-so-slightly and breaking out of Cas’ grip in order to kiss him, his every admission and feeling packed behind it as tight as he could get it. He wanted Cas to feel everything he felt in one kiss, and he hoped he accomplished it. He might have, if Cas’ harsh breathing was anything to go by. Dean broke the kiss and grabbed Cas’ wrist, helping him off the counter and into the shower. They stood together under the spray, touching and rubbing every bit of each other that they could reach. Dean worked Cas to orgasm with his hands, and Cas returned the favour to Dean with his mouth. When they finished, Dean rubbed shampoo into Cas’ hair, scrubbing it softly as Cas leaned into his touch. He pulled Cas’ head until it rested under the water. He watched the suds swirl into the drain and when they finished, he switched places with Cas and let him take care of him. He let Cas rub shampoo into his hair, and he leaned into the touch. He let Cas lean his head under the spray and wash the soap back out. For the first time in what was probably years, he let himself be taken care of by someone else. He let himself give up complete control and let Cas move him in whatever way he wanted. He let his muscles become malleable and pliant, leaning into Cas’ touch and sighing deeply, happily. 

When they finished, Dean grabbed towels and gave one to Cas. They dried each other softly, Dean stopping at all of Cas’ ticklish spots to tease him until Cas was a laughing mess. Cas, in turn, chased Dean down the hallway, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist (much to Sam’s dismay when he finally exited out of his room to find Cas and Dean chasing each other into Dean’s room, both wearing towels that were not hanging on to them well enough). Cas had moved a few of his things into Dean’s room a few days before, and he opened a drawer to find that Dean had moved them all into a drawer, Cas’ own drawer. Cas felt himself blush slightly, but pulled his jeans and t-shirt out of the drawer anyway, deciding not to make a big deal of it. 

Finally ready for the day, Dean walked into the living room with Cas at his side and helped him pick up the mess they’d made, bumping Cas’ shoulder occasionally and giving him stupid grins. They put the blankets and pillows back where they belonged, threw the clothes in the laundry baskets and threw away the gummy worm package. On the way to the kitchen, Dean was struck with an idea. “Cas, instead of having breakfast here, do you wanna go get something instead? We can find a little restaurant and just eat out this morning…I mean, if you want.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and Cas chuckled, grabbing his wrist, pulling it away from his neck, and holding his hand in both of his. 

“Yes, Dean, I’d love to.” Dean nodded and Cas removed one of his hands, still holding Dean’s in his. 

They passed Sam on the way to the door, and Dean shouted out “Sammy, Cas and I are going to get breakfast, want me to bring you back something?”

Sam startled from where he was sitting with a cup of coffee, but nodded nonetheless. “Uh, yeah, sure, if you want.” He glanced down at Cas and Dean’s conjoined hands, smirking to himself. 

“Then I will. Okay, bye, Sammy!” Dean grinned at him and followed Cas like a lost puppy to the door, hand still gripped tight in his.

Sam smiled into his cup of coffee, amused with himself. “Kevin owes me twenty bucks. That was almost worth losing my sanity to their god-awful noise last night…and this morning,” he said to himself, shuddering slightly.

When Dean and Cas found Baby parked outside, Dean almost didn’t want to let go of Cas’ hand. He resigned himself to opening the passenger door instead; shutting it after Cas was seated. He took his own seat on the driver’s side and took Cas’ hand in his as soon as he was seated. He started the engine, smiling to himself in a way he always would to hear his baby’s engine purr underneath him. The moment was perfect, and Dean felt whole in ways he didn’t know he could.

The whole way to the restaurant, Dean sang every song on the radio, loud and unafraid as Cas held his hand and shook his head at him. At the restaurant, he played footsie with Cas under the table and didn’t even spare the waitress a second glance, but that was okay, the whole restaurant could tell they were stupidly in love. The waitress didn’t even care, she thought they were extremely cute together, and Dean grinned and thanked her when she told him as much. Dean had grabbed take-out box of something stupid and healthy for Sam when he and Cas left, and on the way back home, he reveled in how perfect his life seemed now. There’d be more monsters to hunt, more cases to solve, more misery and pain to go through, but he could do it as long as he had Cas. His life, though it was flawed and imperfect, was everything he could ever want. Just like Cas.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated, and if you see some sort of spelling/grammatical error, don't hesitate to tell me! I beta these myself, so sometimes I miss things.
> 
> *Edit* I hit 1k hits! Thank you!


End file.
